If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,
a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies
seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking
a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,
releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage
so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting
into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.
this poem arises a beatifule and alive sense to us , a
seence which may fresh dark and bitter mood of day ,it was very good by now which everything appears bitter !!! thanks.Majid FM Iran
This is a poem that reminds me of that first perfect spring day, when magically, overnight, fields are green and daffodils and dandelions are everywhere!
My version of March Madness
when last night while I slept
vandals were afoot
red breasted birds burt with news of the
windy moon
stealhily spraying all the fields green,
trees blushing wiht what they’ve seen
moon dancing on lawns
decoringing them with daffodils and dandelions!
The sun, even refusing to go to bed!
Spring!
THis is a beautiful poem!